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JOSEPH  PENNELL'S  PICTURES 
OF  THE  WONDER  OF  WORK 


Y\ 


JOSEPH  PENNELL'S  PICTURES 
OE  THE  PANAMA  CANAL 

FIFTH  VRINTING 

^^^^'l^N'^Y-EI(iHT  roprodiu-tions  of  lithographs  made  on 
■*■  the  Istlimiis  of  Panaiiia,  January-March,  1912,  with  Mr. 
I'l'iiiicirs  inlro(hicli(in,  giving  liis  cxpcriencos  and  impressions, 
and  a  full  iU'S(Tii)tion  of  each  picture.  Volume  734  by  1^ 
inclics.  Beautifully  printed  on  dull-finished  paper.  Litho- 
graph by  Mr.  I'ennell  on  cover.     $1.25  net. 

"  Mr.  Pennell  continues  in  this  publication  the  fine  work  which  has 
won  for  him  so  much  (h'scrvcd  popnhirity.  He  does  not  merely 
portray  the  technical  side  of  the  work,  but  rather  prefers  the 
human  element." — American  Art  News. 

JOSEPH  PENNELL'S  PICTURES 
IN  THE  LAND  OE  TEMPLES 

"p'ORTY  reproductions  of  lithographs  made  in  the  Land  of 
Temples,  March-June,  1913,  together  with  impressions 
and  notes  by  the  artist.  Introduction  by  W.  H.  D.  Rouse, 
Litt.  I).  Crown  quarto,  printed  on  dull-finished  paper,  litho- 
graph by  Mr.  Pennell  on  cover.     $1.25  net. 

Mr.  Pennell's  drawings  of  classical  temples  as  they  have  come  down 
to  U3  are  among  the  very  besL  work  of  this  kind  that  he  has  ever  done. 

OUR  PHILADELPHIA 

BY  ELIZABETH  ROBINS  PENNELL 
ILLUSTRATED  BY  JOSEPH  PENNELL 


EGL'LAR  EDITION.     Containing  one  hundred  and  five 
reproductions  of  lithographs  by  Joseph  Pennell.     Quarto 

Handsomely  bound  in  red 


R 

~}  2  by  10  inches,  XIV-552  pages, 
buckram,  boxed.     $7.50  net. 

A  LTOGRAPH  EDITION.  Limited  to  289  copies  (now 
■^  very  scarce).  Contains  ten  drawings  reproduced  by  a 
new  lithograph  process  in  addition  to  the  illustrations  that 
appear  in  the  regular  edition.  Quarto.  XVI-552  pages. 
Specially  bound  in  genuine  English  linen  buckram  in  city 
colors  in  cloth-covered  box.     $18.00  net. 

LIFE  OF 

JAMES  McNeill  whistler 

BY  ELIZABETH  ROBINS  PENNELL 
AND  JOSEPH  PENNELL 

THOROUGHLY  REVISED,  FIFTH  EDITION 

n^HE  Authorized  Life,  with  much  new  matter  added  which 
■*■  was  not  available  at  the  time  of  issue  of  the  elaborate 
two-volume  edition,  now  out  of  print.  Fully  illustrated  with 
97  plates  reproduced  from  AVhistler's  works.  Crown  octavo. 
XX-450  pages.  Whistler  binding,  deckle  edge.  $3.50  net. 
Three-quarter  grain  levant,  $7.50  net. 

pROOFS  of  some  of  the  Lithographs  and  Etchings  in  these 
books  may  be  obtained  on  application  to  the  publishers. 


Joseph  Pennells  Pictures 
OF  THE  Wonder  of  Work 

REPRODUCTIONS  OF  A  SERIES  OF  DRAW- 
INGS, ETCHINGS,  LITHOGRAPHS,  MADE  BY 
HIM  ABOUT  THE  WORLD,  1881-1915,  WITH 
IMPRESSIONS  AND   NOTES   BY  THE  ARTIST 


PHILADELPHIA    AND    LONDON 
J.    B.    LIPPINCOTT    COMPANY 

1916 


COPYUIGHT,  1916,  BY  JOSEPH  PENNELL 

PUBLISHED  SEPTEMBER,  1916 
REPRINTED  OCTOBER,   1916 


PRINTED   BY   J.    B.    LIPPINCOTT    COMPANI 

AT    THE    WASHINGTON    SQUARE    PRESS 

PHILADELPHIA,    U.    S.    A. 


/0  75 

I 

WISH  IN  THIS  BOOK 
TO  HONOR 

^'    ^ 

CONSTANTIN  MEUNIER 

THE  PROPHET  AND 
EXPONENT  OF  THE 
WONDER  OF  WORK 


li>!i/«_>^».  'U'/<i 


THE  WONDER  OF  WORK  INTRODUCTION 

WORK  to-day  is  the  greatest  thing  in  the  world,  and  the  artist 
who  best  records  it  will  be  best  remembered.  Work  has 
always  been  an  inspiration  to  artists,  from  the  time  when  we  were 
told  to  earn  our  bread  b}^  the  sweat  of  our  brow,  till  now,  when 
most  of  us  are  trying  to  forget  the  command,  and  act  like  "  ladies  and 
gentlemen." 

Under  the  Church,  work — the  building  of  the  Tower  of  Babel  and 
the  Temple — was  the  subject  of  endless  imaginings  by  ]3ainters,  sculp- 
tors and  gravers  who  never  assisted  at  the  functions  they  illustrated. 
Painters,  who  sat  in  their  studios  hundreds  of  years  after  the  towers 
and  temples  were  designed  and  destroyed,  have  showed  what  they 
imagined  the  towers  and  the  temples  looked  like.  This — this  sort  of 
creation  or  invention — we  art  students  in  America  called  "  genius 
work  "  because  it  was  "  done  out  of  our  heads."  In  Europe  it  is 
called  "  scholarly,"  and  is  concocted  from  a  classical  dictionary;  a  trip 
for  a  few  weeks  to  Greece  or  Italy  is  useful  but  not  necessary,  and 
adds  to  the  expense ;  illustrated  post  cards  may  be  used  instead. 

Now  educated  j^eoj^le,  cultured  people,  take  such  painters  seriously 
— and  pay  to  sit  in  darkened  chambers  and  brood.  These  are  carefully 
but  sadly  illuminated,  and  the  spectators  pursue  with  diligence,  scarce 
looking  at  the  exhil)its,  the  remarks  of  critics  who  j^i'ove  conclusively 
that  these  painters  show  exactl}^  what  the  world  was  like,  what  build- 
ings were  like  and  how  they  were  built,  and  how  the  builders  worked 
according  to  the  bookman  and  archseologist,  and  the  critic. 

Now  as  to  these  popular  forms  of  art — the  backbone  of  academies, 
— I  know,  for  I  am  a  multi-academician — I  have  nothing  to  say.  The 
results,  in  a  few  instances,  have  been  works  of  art  because  of  excellence 
of  technique.  But  the  man  with  the  greatest  imagination  is  the  man 
with  the  greatest  information  about  his  own  surroundings,  which  he 
uses  so  skilfully  that  we  call  the  result  imagination,  and  tliis  is  tlie  way 
the  greatest  art  of  tlie  world  has  been  created. 

I  am  not  disputing  tlie  power,  in  their  day,  nor  tlie  charm  they 
still  have — for  the  verv  few  who  understand — of  Cimabue,  of  Criotto, 
of  the  painters  of  tlie  Camj^o  Santo  at  Pisa,  when  they  j^ainted  the 

7 


subjects  I  have  nientionetl,  nor  of  rintorieeliio — lie  put  work  in  the 
background  of  his  paintings,  as  Diirer  did  in  his  prints.  And  there 
is  a  wonderful  building  of  a  cathedral  b}^  Van  Kyck  in  Antwerp.  There 
aie  compositions  by  liclliui  and  Carpaccio  which  show  they  studied 
S\ork.  It  is  strange,  so  far  as  I  know,  that  Leonardo  ignored  work 
— in  his  pictures — he  who  was  such  a  great  workman,  yet  vowed  he 
could  paint  witli  any  one,  amongst  his  other  accomplishments.  But, 
with  all  these  artists,  either  work  was  a  detail  or  imaginative;  it  was 
never  the  dominant  motive,  never  a  study  of  work  for  work's  sake. 
There  are  a  few  records  in  sculpture,  most  notable  amongst  them 
being  the  Assyrian  Reliefs  at  the  British  Museum.  Curiously,  I  am 
unable  to  find,  though  they  must  exist,  an}^  sculptures,  reliefs  or  paint- 
ings of  the  great  architectural  work  of  the  Egyptians — or  those  of  the 
Greeks  either.  In  the  Bayeux  tapestries  there  is  the  work  of  the  ship- 
builder and  porter. 

The  first  artist  I  know  of — though  I  am  not  an  art  historian — to 
see  the  pictorial  possibility  of  work,  the  Wonder  of  Work  for  Work's 
Sake,  was  Rembrandt. 

Rembrandt  saw  that  his  father's  mill  w^as  beautiful,  and  by  his 
renderings  of  the  windmills  and  the  dykes  of  Holland  proved  them  the 
great  works  of  his  little  country,  and  showed  they  were  pictorial.  And 
he  drew,  etched  and  painted  them  because  he  loved  their  big  powerful 
forms,  their  splendid  sails,  the  way  they  lorded  the  land  and  kept  out 
the  sea.  They  were  for  him  the  Wonder  of  Work,  the  wondrous 
works  of  his  time,  the  works  that  w^ere  all  about  him.  So  strong  and 
so  powerful  were  these  Dutch  works  that  they  have  lasted  till  to-daj^ 
and  so  well  were  they  designed  that  all  windmills  and  watermills  have 
kept  their  form  till  now.  The  working  parts  have  possibly  been  im- 
proved, but  the  design  has  not  been  changed,  and  Rembrandt's  etch- 
ings— so  accurately  drawn  they  would  serve  as  working  models— 
prove  it.  And  yet  Rembrandt  has  made  a  perfect  artistic  composition 
as  w'ell  as  a  true  mechanical  rendering  of  these  mills  and  dykes.  And 
as  AVhistler  said  in  the  "  Ten  O'clock,"  the  Bible  of  Art,  Rembrandt 
regretted  not  that  the  Jews  of  the  Ghetto  were  not  Greeks,  nor — may 
I  add? — did  he  regret  the  windmills  were  not  temj^les. 

Then  came  Claude  and  found  the  Wonder  of  Work  in  commercial 
8 


harbours,  dominated  bv  necessary  liohthouses,  and  in  the  husthno" 
cities  of  Civita  Vecchia  and  Genoa — for  it  is  amid  the  work,  the  hfe 
of  one's  own  time,  that  the  Wonder  of  Work  is  to  be  found, 

Canaletto  followed,  and  saw  in  the  building  of  Venice  the  same 
inspiration  that  Tintoret  found  in  her  history,  Titian  in  her  great  men. 
And  Piranesi  discovered  the  prisons,  the  Carceri,  to  be  as  enthralling 
as  the  ruins  of  Rome. 

Turner  imitated  Claude.  Claude  saw  his  subjects  about  him; 
Turner  used  Claude's  motives  and  tried  to  rival  his  predecessor. 
Claude  painted  what  he  saw  in  his  own  time;  Turner  tried  to  recon- 
struct his  unconscious  rival's  facts  out  of  his  head,  and  failed  even  in 
his  rendering  of  work  about  him,  signally  in  Steam,  Rain,  Speed, 
where  an  impossible  engine  conducts  itself  in  an  incredible  fashion 
in  a  magnificent  landscape.  Turner  was  not  here  trying  to  carry  on 
tradition — the  only  thing  worth  doing  in  art — but  to  emhctcr  les 
bourgeois — and  Ruskin! 

Turner's  Carthage  would  not  stand  up,  if  built — Claude's  palaces 
do.  Turner,  too,  defying  Ruskin — Ruskin  anathematising  workaday 
England — was  a  spectacle.  But  Turner  was  sometimes  in  the  right, 
with  Constable  and  Crome,  and  they,  and  not  Ruskin,  have  triumphed. 
Turner  had  magnificent  ideas,  wonderful  colour  sense,  grand  com- 
position. But  when  he  came  to  fact  he  was  often  ridiculous  or  2)itiful, 
sim23ly  because  he  had  not  observed  work,  noted  facts — and  to  paint 
work  one  must  study  work.  And  lately  I  was  given  a  print  from  a 
Book  of  Beauty  by  Allom  of  a  coke  furnace,  while  ^Ir.  Joseph  Jack- 
son has  discovered  a  j^ainting  of  a  forge  by  Bass  Otis  in  the  Pennsyl- 
vania Academy  of  the  Fine  Arts — surprisingly  well  done,  both  are,  too. 

It  is  far  easier  to  paint  a  heavenly  host  or  a  dream  city  in  one's 
studio  than  to  make  a  decoration  out  of  a  group  of  miners,  or  to  draw 
a  rolling  mill  in  full  blast.  Yet  one  of  these  subjects  can  be  as  noble 
as  the  other,  as  Whistler  proved,  when  he  showed  for  the  first  time 
how  in  London  "the  poor  buildings  lose  themselves  in  the  dim  sky, 
and  the  tall  chimneys  become  campanile,  and  the  warehouses  are 
palaces  in  the  night,  and  the  whole  city  hangs  in  the  heavens  and 
fairyland  is  before  us."    Tliat  is  the  Gospel  of  the  Wonder  of  Work. 

Though  I  never  studied  under  Whistler — never  was  his  pupil — 

9 


he  is  and  always  will  be  inv  master — the  master  of  the  modern  world, 
the  master  who  will  endure.  Because  he  glorified  the  things  about 
him,  the  things  he  knew,  by  "  The  Science  of  the  Beautiful."  What 
are  the  Thames  etchings — "  Wapping,"  "  The  Last  of  Old  West- 
minster," "The  Xocturnes  " — but  records  of  work?  A  fact  most 
critics  have  never  realised.  But  \\'histler  w^as  a  many-sided — a  so 
many-sided — genius  that  his  many  essays  in  many  fields  are  only  just 
becoming  known,  and  this  study  of  work — the  most  difficult  study 
in  the  world,  under  the  most  trying  conditions — was  never  abandoned 
bv  him  till  he  said  what  he  wanted,  in  the  ways  he  wanted,  not  till  he 
had  made  a  series  of  masterpieces  which  live  and  will  live  forever. 

But  there  was  a  man — all  the  great  have  gone  from  us  in  the  last 
few  years,  which  accounts  for  the  momentary  popularity  of  the  little 
— there  M'as  a  man  who  gave  his  later  life  to  the  Wonder  of  Work — 
Constantin  JNIeunier. 

"  Un  jour — Meunier  approcliait  dejd  de  la  cinqimntaine — Camille 
Lemonnier  Vemmena  clans  le  Ilainaut:  il  devait  y  faire  quelqiies 
iUustrations  pour  La  Belgiquc.  Cc  voyage  de  Meunier  a  travers  le 
Borinage  lui  fut  une  revelation.  II  sy  decouvrit  lui-meme,  il  y 
dccouvrit  son  art.  Dans  ee  sombre  paysage  de  fumce  et  de  feu,  dans 
le  haletement  formidable  des  fabriques,  parmi  les  farouclies  mineurs 
et  les  puddleurs  et  les  verriers,  toute  ime  humamte  damnee  a  la  peine, 
son  dme  tragique  s'emplit  de  cette  pitie  et  de  cette  admiration  qui 
devaient  resonner  a  travers  tout  son  art.  II  avail  conquis  son  propre 
domaine. 

"  Meujiier  a  eonquis  a  I'art  la  beaute  speciale  de  la  nouvelle  in- 
dustrie:  la  formidable  fabrique,  pleine  de  lumiere  sombre  et  de  ton- 
nerre,  les  fetes  flamboyantes  des  fonderies,  la  puissance  grojidafite  des 
machines.    Et  toujours  cette  tendance  est  au  monumental. 

"  IJhymne  au  Travail  cliante  avec  plus  de  force  lyrique  encore 
dans  ses  bronzes.'^ 

This  was  his  life  work,  and  the  life  of  his  w^orld,  the  world,  as  wath 
Whistler,  around  him,  for  "  that  is  best  which  nearest  lieth."  Courbet 
in  work  had  influenced  Legros  and  Brett  and  ^lillet  and  Segantini, 
and  I  have  no  doubt  Ford  Madox  Browai,  the  man  too  big  to  be  a 
pre-Raphaelite,  whose  biggest  picture  is  work — "  Work  in  London  " 
10 


— the  man  who  will  one  day  make  JNIanchester  a  place  of  pilgrimage 
because  of  his  pictures  of  work  and  of  war  in  the  Town  Hall. 

The  Japanese  count  for  a  little  in  work,  Ilokusai  and  Hiroshigi. 
Repine  and  De  Xittis,  L'Hermette,  Bastien-Lej^age,  Tissot,  Ridley, 
and  W.  L.  Wvllie  have  shown  the  Wonder  of  Work,  the  last  three  on 
the  Thames;  and  hundreds  of  imitators  of  these  men  have  starved 
peasants,  herded  kine,  rowed  boats,  and  sat  in  harvest  fields,  and 
liaided  barges,  because  they  thought  it  the  correct  thing  to  do,  or  else 
that  they  could  work  the  sentimental,  pathetic,  socialistic  game  as  a 
diversion  from  mummy's  darling,  l)aby  and  the  mustard-pot,  dear 
little  doggie,  or  poor  old  Dobbin.  I  do  not  mean  to  say  there  have  not 
been,  there  are  not,  artists  who  have  cared  for  the  work  and  workers 
of  the  fields  for  their  own  sake:  there  are  some;  but  I  wish  to  speak 
only  of  industrial  work.  JNIillet  has,  I  believe,  honestly  done  the  life 
around  his  home,  the  life  of  the  fields,  but,  though  he  has  endless 
imitators,  there  are  scarcely  any  painters  to-day  who  see  through  their 
own  eyes  the  real  life  of  the  fields  and  farms  and  the  fisherman — they 
are  blinded  by  the  Frenchman  and  debauched  with  sentiment. 

It  was  incredible,  but  at  the  Panama-Pacific  Exposition  there  was 
not  one  single  official  "mural  "  devoted  to  the  glorification  of  the  great- 
est work  of  modern  times — the  Panama  Canal — the  reason  for  the  Ex- 
position— in  fact,  there  was  only  one  in  which  there  was  any  attempt 
at  making  a  decoration  out  of  the  things  the  artist  might  have  known 
or  seen  save  IVIr.  Trumbull's  Iron  Workers  in  the  Pennsylvania  Build- 
ing— and  a  few  rather  imimportant  things  in  the  Dutch  and  Argen- 
tine Pavilions. 

JMeunier  showed  without  sentiment  the  workman  at  work,  not 
with  any  idea  of  preaching  about  his  wrongs,  his  trials,  his  struggles, 
his  misery,  but  to  show  the  Wonder  of  Work  for  its  own  sake,  and  the 
pictorial  possil)ilities  of  workmen  and  workwomen  in  Belgium. 
Meunier  showed  that  the  workman  was  worthy  of  the  artist's  chisel, 
chalk,  needle,  and  paint.  There  is  no  sentiment  about  ^leunier;  there 
is  grandeur,  dignity,  and  power,  and  from  him  we  have  learned  that 
modern  work  is  wonderful.  JNIeunier  was  an  old  man  when  a  few 
years  ago  I  first  heard  of  him  and  saw  his  work.  He  liad  then  done 
his  heroic  "  Antwerp  "  and  his  2:)uddlers  and  miners  in  })ronze,  his 

11 


paintings  and  his  chalk  drawings,  liis  decorations,  his  great  apse  for 
the  unbuilt  basilica — the  monument  to  modern  work  and  workers. 
His  work  is  decorative  because  it  is  true,  and  this  brings  up  another 
side  of  the  Wondei-  of  A\'ork.  In  France,  Germany,  and  Italy  the 
AVonder  of  Work  around  us  has  been  made  the  subject  of  endless 
commissions  from  the  State  to  artists  mostly  realistic.  But  records 
of  facts,  facts  of  one's  own  time,  in  Kngland  and  America,  are  scarcely 
ever  recorded.  Go  to  the  Koyal  Exchange,  in  London,  and  you  will 
find  AVat  Tyler,  Plnrnicians,  Britons  painted  blue,  and  everything  in 
the  histor}'  of  London  that  can  be  made  into  a  painting  of  the  past, 
and  not  a  single  record  of  the  present.  Where  is  the  building  of  the 
Tower  Bridge,  the  Power  Houses,  the  Docks,  the  Blackwall  Tunnel, 
the  Trams,  the  Tube,  or  any  of  the  other  works  by  which  this  age,  this 
workaday  age,  has  distinguished  itself,  all  of  which  are  worth  painting? 
In  America  we  have  imaginings  of  Holy  Grails,  Pied  Pipers,  Re- 
ligious Liberties,  when  one  fact  in  "  murals  "  about  steel  works,  sky- 
scrapers, or  the  Brooklyn  Bridge  would  be  worth  the  lot  in  the  future, 
when  these  factless  fancies  are  whitewashed  out,  or  made  a  good 
ground  to  paint  on.  One  man  in  America,  W.  B.  Van  Ingen,  has 
eiorified  work  bv  his  Panama  decorations  in  the  Administration 
Building  at  Balboa.  These  were  not  wanted  at  the  Panama  Exhi- 
bition. In  France  men  like  Henri  JNIartin  have  painted  decoratively, 
yet  realistically,  the  harvest  of  last  summer;  Besnard  and  Anquetin 
have  done  wonders ;  and  the  biggest  French  artists  have  decorated  the 
]Mairies.  In  Chicago  they  turn  students  out  to  make  "  murals  "  in 
school  houses,  a  system  of  artistic  debauchery  worthy  of  Chicago's  orig- 
inality. And  Puvis  de  Chavannes,  first  of  all  magnificenth"  showed  the 
way  to  combine  the  old  decoration  with  the  new  realism.  His  life  work 
at  Amiens  is  pure  convention,  so  are  his  designs  in  the  Boston  Library 
and  in  the  Sorbonne,  but  they  are  the  most  perfect  examples  of 
decorative,  imaginative,  conventional  work  in  the  modern  world. 

At  Rouen  and  ^Marseilles  he  has  treated  decoratively  modern 
subjects,  or  rather  he  has  used  modern  motives.  At  Rouen,  the  city 
with  its  spires  and  chimneys,  its  old  bridges  and  new  transporters,  as 
seen  from  Bon  Secours,  prove  the  Wonder  of  Work;  in  the  fore- 
ground are  modern  figures,  greeting  the  Spirit  of  old  France.  At 
12 


Marseilles  there  are  two  subjects  in  which  symbolism  and  realism, 
modernity  and  medifevalism  are  harmonised — the  most  difficult  prob- 
lem to  solve ;  but  Puvis  has  solved  it,  and  proved  himself  the  greatest 
if  not  the  only  decorator  since  Pierro  della  Francesco,  the  supreme 
master  of  decoration.  Raphael,  in  the  Stanzi  of  the  Vatican,  was  a 
decorator  of  his  own  time,  and  so  was  Pintoricchio  in  the  Library  at 
Siena,  and  jNIantegna  at  Padua,  for  they  made  decoration  out  of  the 
life  about  them. 

And  John  Lavery  has  made,  in  Glasgow,  a  decoration  out  of 
shipbuilding  which  is  worth  the  whole  wall  coverings  of  the  Royal 
Exchange  and  the  Library  of  Congress,  and  the  Carnegie  Institute 
put  together.  But  decoration  is  a  difficult  matter,  and  Lavery  has 
done  much  for  Glasgow.  I  regret  that  John  Alexander  and  E.  A. 
Abbey,  who  had  far  better  official  opportunities,  only  proved  how 
unfit  the  average  painter  is  to  decorate. 

From  the  very  beginning  I  have  cared  for  the  Wonder  of  Work ; 
from  the  time  I  built  cities  of  blocks  and  sailed  models  of  ships  of 
them  across  the  floor  in  my  father's  office,  till  I  went  to  the  Panama 
Canal,  I  have  cared  for  the  Wonder  of  Work.  There  are  others  who 
care — Brangwyn  has  cared,  and  so  have  Sauter,  Muirhead  Bone, 
Strang  and  Short.  Crane  and  Anning  Bell,  Way,  Cameron,  Bone 
and  Brangwyn  have  cared  for  the  building  ujd  and  the  breaking  down, 
and  Brangwyn  for  life — the  life  of  the  workman,  jjossibly  because  of 
his  Belgian  and  seafaring  education  or  his  knowledge  of  jNIeunier,  his 
countryman.  And  Seymour  Haden's  "  Breaking-up  the  Agamem- 
non "  is  notable.  And  there  are  Belgians  like  Baertsoen,  de  Bruycke 
and  Pierre  Paulus;  and  Frenchmen  like  Lepere,  Gillot  and  Adler: 
and  Italians  like  Pieretto  Bianco,  and  there  was  the  great  German 
Menzel. 

But  it  is  to  America  we  must  turn,  to  White's  etching  of  Brooklyn 
Bridge,  Cooper's  skyscrapers,  Alden  Weir's  New  York  at  night. 
Bellow's  docks,  Childe  Hassam's  high  buildings,  Thornton  Oakley's 
coal  breakers — to  these  one  must  look  for  the  modern  rendering  of 
work.  There  are  others,  too,  who  have  seen  the  opjiortunity  to  prig 
and  steal — but  this  is  evident,  just  as  it  is  evident  tliat  tliey  will  give 
up  painting  or  drawing  work  for  the  next  new  thing.     And  there  is 

13 


another  artist  who  really  cares  for  the  Wonder  of  Work.  I  do  not 
know  what  else  Van  Ingen  has  done,  hut  he  has  made  a  huge  decora- 
tion of  Culehra  Cut — and  Paul  l>artlett  has  put  American  work  on 
the  pediment  of  the  Capitol.  I  have  tried  to  do  what  I  could  in 
Xew  York,  Chicago,  San  Francisco,  the  coal  mines  of  my  native  State 
— Xiagara — and  in  Europe  and  at  Panama;  and  whatever  their 
worth,  I  can  only  tell  of  the  Wonder  of  AVork  as  I  see  it. 

Xew  York,  as  the  incoming  foreigner,  full  of  prejudice,  or  doubt, 
or  hope,  and  the  returning  American,  crammed  with  guide-book  and 
catalogue  culture,  see  it  or  might  see  it,  rises  a  vision,  a  mirage  of  the 
lower  bay,  the  colour  by  day  more  shimmering  than  Venice,  by  night 
more  magical  than  London.  In  the  morning  the  mountains  of  build- 
ings hide  themselves,  to  reveal  themselves  in  the  rosy  steam  clouds 
that  chase  each  other  across  their  flanks;  when  evening  fades,  they 
are  mighty  cliffs  glimmering  with  glistening  lights  in  the  magic  and 
mystery  of  the  night.  As  the  steamer  moves  up  the  bay  on  the  left 
the  Great  Goddess  greets  you,  a  composition  in  colour  and  form, 
with  the  city  beyond,  finer  than  any  in  any  world  that  e\er  existed, 
finer  than  Claude  ever  imagined,  or  Turner  ever  dreamed.  Why  did 
not  "^Miistler  see  it?  Piling  up  higher  and  higher  right  before  you  is 
Xew  York;  and  what  does  it  remind  you  of?  San  Gimignano  of  the 
Beautiful  Towers  away  off  in  Tuscany,  only  here  are  not  eleven,  but 
eleven  times  eleven,  not  low  mean  brick  piles,  but  noble  palaces 
crowned  with  gold,  with  green,  with  rose ;  and  over  them  the  waving, 
fluttering  plume  of  steam,  the  emblem  of  Xew  York.  To  the  right, 
filmy  and  lace-like  by  day,  are  the  great  bridges;  by  night  a  pattern 
of  stars  that  Hiroshigi  never  knew.  You  land  in  streets  that  are 
Florence  glorified.  You  emerge  in  squares  more  noble  than  Seville. 
Golden  statues  are  about  you,  triumphal  arches  make  splendid  frames 
for  endless  vistas;  and  it  is  all  new  and  all  untouched,  all  to  be  done, 
and  save  for  the  work  of  a  few  of  us,  and  we  are  Americans,  all  un- 
done. The  Unbelievable  City,  the  city  that  has  been  built  since  I 
grew  up,  the  city  beautiful,  built  by  men  I  know,  built  for  people  I 
know.  The  city  that  inspires  me,  that  I  love.  And  all  America  is 
like  this  and — all — or  nearly  all  unseen,  unknown,  untouched. 
14 


I  went  to  Panama  because  I  believed  that,  in  the  making  of  the 
greatest  work  of  modern  time,  I  should  find  my  greatest  inspiration. 

Almost  before  I  left  the  Canal,  artists,  architects  and  decorators 
were  on  their  way  there.  I  hope  it  may  interest  them  half  as  much 
as  it  interested  me.  One  man  has  succeeded,  I  repeat,  in  doing  some- 
thing for  himself  down  there — ^W.  B.  Van  Ingen — and  this  has  been 
acknowledged  by  the  government,  which  has  jDiu'chased  his  great 
decoration.  This  is  the  finest,  in  fact  the  only  complete  decorative 
work  from  him  done  in  the  United  States — and  done  because  Van 
Ingen,  the  pupil  of  La  Farge — who  alone  counts — was  trained  in  the 
right  way  and  had  something  to  say  for  himself. 

We  have  recently  been  told  that  art  will  disappear  in  fifty  years 
(by  a  person  who  says  he  will  call  his  last  book — with  possible  appro- 
priateness— Vale).  But,  though  he  will  disappear,  and  Post  Im- 
pressionism will  be  swallowed  up  in  shopkeeping,  and  war  has  en- 
gulfed that,  and  work  is  stopped — save  for  war — and  though  the 
mustard  pot  has  gone  with  the  soulful  doggie,  and  the  tearful  baby 
rival  of  the  Dresden  ^Madonna,  the  artist  who  has  somethino;  to  sav 
in  his  own  way  about  his  own  time,  and  can  say  it,  will  live,  and  his 
work  will  live,  with  Rembrandt,  Velasquez,  Franz  Hals,  INIeunier, 
and  Whistler — artists  who  painted  and  drew  the  work  and  life  about 
them,  who  carried  on  tradition,  and  never  regretted  the  past.  And 
art  which  shows  life  and  work  will  never  die,  for  such  art  is  everlast- 
ing, imdying,  "  The  Science  of  the  Beautiful." 

Joseph  Pennell 

This  introduction  is  founded  on  a  lecture  delivered  before  the  Royal 
Society  of  Arts,  London,  and  awarded  its  medal,  and  an  article 
published  by  The  Studio,  and  the  author  wishes  to  thank  the  Council 
and  Publisher  for  permission  to  reproduce  parts  of  it.  And  it  was  re- 
peated before  the  Royal  College  of  Art,  London,  The  Corporation 
of  Bradford  and  the  British  Architectural  Association,  London,  etc. 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 


Phil.\delphia 
Columbia 


Building  the  Public  Buildings,  Philadelphia 

The  New  House,  Philadelphia 

The  Manufacturers'  Club  and   Stock  Exchange, 

Philadelphia 
Oil  Refining,  Point  Breeze, 
Oil  Wells,  Alberta,  British 
Steel  at  Gary,  Indiana 
The  Jaws,  Chicago 
Stock  Yards,  Chicago 
Under  the  Bridges,  Chicago 
The  Cambria  Steel  Works,  Johnstown 
Pittsburgh,  No.  3 

Edgar  Thomson  Steel  Works,  Pittsburgh 
On  the  Way  to  Bessemer 
Carnegie's  Works,  Homestead 
Coal  Breakers,  Shenandoah 
Work  Castles,  Wilkes-Barre 
Building  a  Power-house,  Nl\gara 
Building  a  Skyscraper,  Night,  New  York 
Building  the  Woolworth  Building,  New  York 
Butte,  Montana,  on  its  Mountain  Top 
Anaconda,  Montana 

Approach  to  Duluth,  the  Land  of  Work  and  Beauty 
Ore  Wharves,  Duluth 
Ore  Mines,  Hibbing 
Flour  Mills,  Minneapolis 
The  Incline,  Cincinnati 
Victor  Emmanuel  Monument  at  Rome 
Rebuilding  the  Campanile,  Venice 
Return  from  Work,  Carrara,  Italy 
The  New  Bay  of  Baie,  Italy 
The  Harbor  at  Genoa,  Italy 
The  Great  White  Cloud,  Leeds,  England 
Potland,  England 


I 
II 

III 

IV 

V 

VI 

VII 

VIII 

IX 

X 

XI 

XII 

XIII 

XIV 

XV 

XVI 

XVII 

XVIII 

XIX 

XX 

XXI 

XXII 

XXIII 

XXIV 

XXV 

XXVI 

XXVII 

XXVIII 

XXIX 

XXX 

XXXI 

XXXTI 

XXXIII 


TiiE  River  of  Work,  Leeds,  England 

The  Great  Chimney,  Bradford,  England 

The  Great  Stack,  Sheffield,  England 

Thames  Works,  London 

Schneider's  Works  at  Creusot,  Erance 

Old  and  New  Mills,  Valenciennes,  Erance 

The  Lake  of  Fire,  Charleroi,  Belgium 

The  Great  Dump,  Charleroi,  Belgium 

The  Iron  Gate,  Charleroi,  Belgium 

Cranes,  Duisburg,  Germany 

New  Rhine,  Germany 

Building  the  Railroad  Station,  Leipzig,  Germany 

Building  the  Bridge  at  Cologne,  Germany 

Building  the  "Bismarck,"  Hamburg,  Germany 

The  Hut  of  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope,  Oberhausen, 

Germany 
Shipyard,  Hamburg,  Germany 
Krupp's  Works,  Essen,  Germany 
Power-house,  Berlin,  Germany 
schnaaps  at  schiedaam,  holland 


XXXIV 

XXXV 

XXXVI 

XXXVII 

XXXVIII 

XXXIX 

XL 

XLI 

XLII 

XLIII 

XLIV 

XLV 

XLVI 

XLVII 

XLVIII 

XLIX 

L 

LI 

LII 


I 

BUILDING  THE  PUBLIC  BUILDINGS,  PHILADELPHIA 


I     BUILDING  TIIK  TI  15LIC  Bni.DINGS 

THIS  etching  proves  tluit  my  love  of  the  Wonder  of 
Work  is  no  new  thing,  for  it  w;is  done  in  1881,  out  of 
my  studio  ■\vin(h)\v  in  Chestnut  Street,  Pliiladelpliia,  on  the 
liot  morning  that  Garfiekl  was  shot.  Even  then  I  knew 
what  I  wanted  to  do,  but  I  had  no  idea  tliat — with  certain 
breaks — all  my  life  Avould  be  given  to  the  Wonder  of 
Work — the  work  that  is  all  about  us,  the  most  wonderful 
thing  in  the  world. 


II 

THE  NEW  HOUSE,  PHILADELPHIA 


II     THE  NEW  HOUSE,  PHILADEEPIIIA 

I  CAN  renu'iubcr  the  bed  of  mortar  in  tlie  street,  the 
hod-carrier  toiling  up  the  hidder,  the  bricklayers  above 
on  the  scatf'oUl,  and  I  have  drawn  sucli  tilings;  but  to  find 
(hiring  one's  Hi'etinie  such  a  development  of  building  in  my 
own  city  is  ama/ing,  but  it  is  well  worth  recording — tliis 
phase  of  the  Wonder  of  Work. 


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Ill 

THE  MANUFACTURERS'  CLUB  AND  STOCK 
EXCHANGE,  PHILADELPHIA 


Ill    THE  :manufacturkrs'  ctajb  and  stock 

EXCHANGE,  rillLADELlTHA 

ONE  hot  summer  evening  I  was  asked  to  dine  at  the 
University  Club,  and  this  drawing  is  the  result.  I 
had  no  idea  that  I  would  get  anything  but — as  one  always 
does  in  Philadelphia — a  good  dinner.  I  have  forgotten 
the  good  dinner  and  the  doubtless  good  talk,  but  I  shall 
never  forget  the  towering  buildings,  in  the  coming  night, 
grouped  round  the  low  houses,  and  the  dark  hole  from 
which  the  steel  skeleton  was  emerging,  soon  to  become 
higher  and  mightier  than  the  grim  masses  amid  which  it 
was  growing.     So  I  came  back  the  next  day  and  drew  it. 


IV 
OIL  REFINING,  POINT  BREEZE 


IV     OIL  llEFINING,  POINT  ]iKEKZE 

IF  an^'  one  cares  to  look  up  a  copy  of  the  Century  Maga- 
zine— or  it  was  tlien  Scrihners — for  about  1880  or 
1881,  there  will  be  found  in  it  niv  first  published  drawing 
of  the  Wonder  of  Work — and  of  tliis  same  oil  refinery  at 
Point  Breeze.  Now  I  am  back  in  Pliiladelphia,  years  after, 
and  I  have  found  the  same  subject  as  full  of  inspiration  as 
ever.  And  though  the  editors  of  that  date  were  willing  to 
publish  my  drawings  of  sucli  subjects  then — now  they  won't 
have  them,  or  use  those  of  my  flatterers — I  mean  imitating 
thieves.  But  there  is  scarce  an  art  editor  left — that  pro- 
fession scarce  exists  anv  longer. 


1  A«?^. 


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V 
OIL  WELLS,  ALBERTA 


V     oil.  \YKLLS,  ALBERTA 

I  HAVE  never  yet  found  a  perfect!}'  satisfactory  oil 
field,  as  a  subject  for  the  Wonder  of  Work.  The  wells 
are  not  big  enough,  they  are  all  alike,  and  there  is  no  smoke. 
I  confess  I  once  thought  an  oil  well  gushed  like  a  geyser, 
liundreds  of  feet  in  the  air,  and,  when  it  was  not  doing  that, 
belched  forth  crorffeous  columns  and  clouds  of  smoke.  I  was 
told  that  the  first  was  prevented  with  difficulty,  and  that 
b}'  dropping  a  match  into  the  pipe  I  could  easily  produce 
the  second  effect — though  either  might  cost  me  a  million ; 
still,  the  fact  remains,  I  have  yet  to  find  a  really  fine  oil 
field — and  a  really  fine  effect  over  it.  The  refineries,  how- 
ever, make  up  for  the  wells. 


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VI 
STEEL  AT  GARY,  INDIANA 


M     STEEL  AT  GARY,  INDIANA 


I 


F  there  is  anything  in  carrying  on  tradition  it  is  here, 
for  here  at  these  ne\v  works,  the  engineers,  the  steel 
makers,  haye  built  mills  which  are  nothing  more  than  Rem- 
brandt's mills  glorified  and  magnified.  And  everything  in 
the  Wonder  of  Work  is  only  carrying  on  tradition.  Every 
mill,  every  dock,  every  railroad  station,  every  bridge,  every 
skyscraper  is  but  a  development  of  the  work  of  the  Greeks 
and  Romans.  In  trying  to  show  this  Wonder  of  Work  to- 
day I  am  only  trying  to  do  Avhat  has  been  done  already 
■with  Greek  art  and  literature.  We  are  not  original  and 
never  can  be.  We  may  believe  we  are  and  prove  ourselves 
ignorant  or  cubists,  but  the  cubists  are  so  ignorant — or 
think  the  public  are — that  they  only  prig  from  archaic  art. 
We  can  carry  on  tradition  with  diflficulty ;  we  can  easily 
turn  backward  or  stand  still.  Those  who  have  created 
the  Wonder  of  Work  do  not  turn  back — artists  do  not — 
duffers  do. 


■('■ 


A 


VII 
THE  JAWS,  CHICAGO 


VII     THE  JAWS,  CHICAGO 

HVA\\\  is  tlic  real  Chicago.  This  was  the  first  of  these 
jaws  I  ever  saw;  they  are  horrible,  but  fascinating, 
and  typify  the  power,  fright  fulness,  and  get-there  of  that 
mighty  village :  picturesque  beyond  words,  terrible  beyond 
description,  fascinating  beyond  belief.  The  most  amazing 
thing  in  the  most  amazing  mix-up  in  the  world — Chicago. 


\  -V  L 


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VIII 
STOCK  YARDS,  CHICAGO 


Mil     STOCK  YARDS,  CHICAGO 

THE  lines  of  the  pons  or  corrals,  or  whatever  thcj  are 
called,  are  fascinating  to  draw — and  fascinating  it  is 
to  watch  the  picadors,  or  cowboys,  or  whatever  you  call 
tiieni,  rounding  up  the  cattle,  and  all  the  lines  of  the  design 
lead  up  to  the  packing-houses  which  fill  the  distance.  I 
have  never  been  in  them,  don't  want  to  go,  and  have  no  in- 
terest in  the  social,  financial,  or  sanitary  condition  of  them. 
I  am  always  being  criticised  for  lacking  interest  in  such 
matters,  but  my  critics  do  not  realize  I  am  simply  an  artist 
searching  for  the  Wonder  of  Work — not  for  morals — 
political  economy — stories  of  sweating — the  crime  of  ugli- 
ness. I  am  trying  to  record  the  Wonder  of  Work  as  I  see 
it,  that  is  all. 


IX 

UNDER  THE  BRIDGES,  CHICAGO 


IX     UNDER  THE  BRIDGES,  CHICAGO 

BRIDGES  slioulcl  be  seen  sometimes  from  below — from 
nowhere  else  are  they  jso  impressive.  The  New  York 
bridges  become  a  thousand  times  more  impressive,  the 
Fortli  Bridfire  stretches  on  forever,  the  Viaduct  de  Gari- 
bault  gi'ows  more  and  more  graceful,  the  bridges  at  Chicago 
grimmer.    This  is  the  grimmest  I  have  found. 


X 

THE  CAMBRIA  STEEL  WORKS,  JOHNSTOWN 


X     THE  CAMBRIA  STEEL  WORKS,  JOHNSTOWN 

Always  wlien  I  have  been  ^oing  or  coming  cast  or  west 
■^*-  on  the  Pennsylvania  and  readied  Johnstown  I  have 
meant  to  stop,  for  from  the  train  it  seemed  so  fine.  Now 
I  have  stopped  and  know  it  is  far  finer  than  I  imagined,  and 
tliat  tliere  arc  endless  subjects  up  and  down  the  river  banks, 
but  this  one  of  the  steel  works  seems  to  me  the  finest — as 
magnificent  as  any  I  have  ever  seen  anywliere. 


i^-^y;^^'^|'3^^li^ 


XI 
PITTSBURGH,  NO.  3 


XI     riTTSBriKill,  NO.  3 

WAY  down  below  the  level  road  on  which  I  stood,  way 
1)11  the  opposite  side  of  the  river,  Pittsburgh  lies  a 
dark,  low  mass,  henniied  in  by  its  rivers,  lorded  by  its  hills; 
ill  the  hoUow  the  smoke  hangs  so  dense  often  I  could  not  see 
tlie  city  at  all,  but  once  in  a  while  a  breeze  falls  on  the  town, 
and  the  great  white  skyscrapers  come  forth  from  the 
thick,  black  cloud,  and  tlie  effect  is  glorious — the  glorifica- 
tion of  Work,  for  Pittsburgh  is  the  work-city  of  the  world. 


XII 
EDGAR  THOMSON  STEEL  WORKS,  PITTSBURGH 


XTT     EDGAR  THOMSON  STEEL  WORKS 

I  FOUND  tliese  works  and  this  view  of  them  on  a  trolley 
ride  out  of  Pittsburgh.  They  group  themselves  under 
their  canop}'  of  smoke  as  finely  as  any  in  the  world,  and 
every  works  in  the  Wonder  of  Work  has  character — just 
as  a  tree  has — but  how  much  more  impressive  is  a  row  of 
blast  furnaces,  oil  wells,  and  coal  breakers,  tlian  trees  !  Yet 
these  are  the  subjects  of  our  age — naturally,  scarcel}^  any 
one  ever  looks  at  them,  especially  artists — though  I  hear 
tlie  "  young  artists  "  of  America  have  with  money  prizes 
been  encouraged  to  take  up  "  Labor  "  as  a  change  from 
painting  "  murals  " — but  you  can't  help  people  to  be  artists 
or  to  see  things,  they  must  do  it  for  themselves.  The  only 
artists  who  see  things  in  tlie  world  are  engineers  and  a  few 
architects,  for  the  mill  has  taken  the  place  of  the  cathe- 
dral— and  the  great  craftsmen  who  once  worked  for  Popes 
now  work  for  captains  of  industry — for  art  follows  money. 


XIII 
ON  THE  WAY  TO  BESSEMER 


XIII      ON  THE  WAY  TO  BESSEMER 

A  FEW  years  ago  it  would  have  been  impossible  to  Jiave 
done,  or  even  found,  the  subjects  in  tliis  book,  for  one 
would  have  had  an  impossible  tramp,  or  a  trip  in  a  hack, 
and  the  nuisance  and  expense  of  it  all,  while  the  roads  rarely 
went  near  the  mills  or  works.  Now  the  trolley  whisks  you 
about,  and  frequently  deserts  the  roads  to  get  to  the  mills 
and  pick  up  its  passengers,  the  workmen.  The  trolley  is 
by  far  the  best  guide  to  the  Wonder  of  Work  in  the  world. 
I  liad  no  idea  what  was  at  Bessemer — or  rather  on  the  way 
to  it.  I  had  been  in  the  works,  but  as  the  car  mounted  the 
hill  I  saw  the  subject  behind  me,  and  at  the  next  stop 
jumped  off  and  drew  it,  and  it  is  in  this  way  my  work  has 
been  done.  It's  all  adventure — the  adventure  of  hunting 
for  the  Wonder  of  Work,  and  the  love  of  the  hunt  has 
carried  me  all  over  Europe  and  America. 


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XIV 
CARNEGIE'S  WORKS,  HOMESTEAD 


XIV     C'AUNK(;iF/S  WORKS,  HOMESTEAD 

IN  the  works  at  Homestead  what  interested  me  was  tlie 
waj  the  mills  lie  under  the  hills  on  the  curving  river,  the 
way  that  winds  up  to  them,  the  way  the  graceful  iron 
hridges  span  it,  and  the  deep-sighing  steamboats  push  the 
barges  up  and  down  ;  the  way  the  clouds  mingle  with  the 
smoke — the  composition  that  is  there. 


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XV 
COAL  BREAKERS,  SHENANDOAH 


XV     COAT.  BUKAKKKS,  SHENANDOAH 

ONE  afternoon,  hunting  for  .subjects,  I  took  the  trolley 
from  ^lahiinoy  City  in  the  sunset  to  Shenandoah,  and 
as  we  breasted  a  hill  this  is  what  I  saw:  the  long  lines  of 
crosses  are  trolley  poles — the  huge  castle  a  coal  breaker, 
the  great  town  American,  but  the  people,  the  miners  who 
go  to  the  churches  which  crown  it,  speak  languages  and 
worship  creeds  I  do  not  know  or  understand.  There,  and 
not  in  Philadelphia,  are  the  new  Americans — but  most 
Americans  do  not  know  it — for  their  ways  are  not  Phila- 
delphia Ava3^s,  and  their  thoughts  not  those  of  Spruce 
Street.  And  there  is  not  a  man  among  them  who  speaks 
English  hardly — and  they  are  too  ignorant  to  know  that 
Enfrland  is  their  "  IMother  Land."  But  there  is  even  more 
ignorance  in  Spruce  Street. 


XVI 
WORK  CASTLES,  WILKES-BARRE 


XVI     AVORK  CASTLES,  WILKES-BARRE 

FROM   the  end   of   the   new  bridge   which  has   rcpUiced 
the  wonderful  old  wooden  ones  that  got  one  somehow 
across  the  Susquehanna  and  other  American  rivers,  wan- 
dering just  at  sunset  up  the  beautiful  bank  of  the  beautiful 
river,  I  found  this  splendid  subject.     All,  many  would  say, 
that  was  wanted  were  some  knights  bringing  home   fair 
ladies ;  all,  others  would  say,  was  the  poor  workman,  trudg- 
ing, filled  with  jNIillet  sentiment,  whiskey,  or  his  wrongs,  to 
the  filthy  hole  he  is  allowed  to  live  in  and  call  his — for  the 
time — home;  for  these  mining  towns,  the  fault  of  their  in- 
habitants,  are  pigsties — pigsties   that  no  government  in 
any  country  in  the  Avorld  but  this  would  permit.     It  is  only 
in  America  that  immigrants  live  like  hogs — as  they  like — 
no  government  in  Europe  would  permit  it.     I  have  seen 
both  hemispheres  and  know  most  social  reformers  have  not 
— and  would  not  know  if  they  had.    We  are  trying  to  clean 
up  the  world  before  we  can  clean  our  back  yards.     But  I 
only  looked  at   the   coal  breaker   as   making,   perfecting, 
carrying  out  a  composition  in  a  glorious  landscape,  and 
for  that  reason  I  sat  down  and  drew  it. 


XVII 
BUILDING  A  POWER-HOUSE,  NIAGARA 


XVII     BUILDING  A  rOWEK-HOUSE,  NIAGARA 

THE  purists  and  the  theorists  have  made  a  great  fuss 
about  the  destruction  of  the  Falls  and  the  vandals  who 
have  done  it.  Now  the  Falls,  I  believe,  have  not  been  low- 
ered an  inch,  and  as  for  the  power-houses,  they  are  most  of 
them  Greek  temples,  and  placed  just  where  the  Greeks 
would  have  placed  them.  For  once  the  Greek  temple  is 
right  in  America,  and  therefore  the  American  purist  and 
theorist  doesn't  like  it — he  would  not  have  liked  Greek 
temples  had  he  been  Greek.  I  did  not  draw  the  temples, 
but  the  temples  being  built,  Avhich  was  interesting.  Below 
the  bridge  on  the  American  side  are  older  works,  Avondrous 
works,  high  on  the  cliffs,  great  overflows  of  water  gushing 
from  the  rock.  If  the}^  were  in  Tivoli  the  purists  would  sit 
down  between  two  trains  and  snapshot  the  "  cute  "  Villa 
d'Else  and  the  "  hansome  "  Villa  of  Hadrian,  or  revile  the 
spaghetti,  while  a  courier  quoted  Baedeker  at  them.  At 
Niagara  they  take  off  their  clothes,  put  their  feet  on  the 
piazza  rail  of  the  Canadian  hotel,  sigh  over  the  power- 
houses, delight  in  ginger-ale,  and  forget  the  Falls,  in  the 
pages  of  a  Saturday  Home  Magazine.  This  lithograph  is 
a  proof  that  engineers  design  to-day  for  companies,  not 
churches. 


XVIII 
BUILDING  A  SKYSCRAPER,  NIGHT,  NEW  YORK 


XVIII     BriLDING  A   SKYSCRAPKR,  NEW  YORK 

THIS  was  the  end,  and  a  most  pictorial  end,  of  the  old 
Kverett  House,  a  hotel  which  had  character  as  so  few 
now  have — in  New  York.  I  saw  it  one  cold  November 
ni^ht  aiul  made  the  sketch  on  my  way  to  a  dinner  party  in 
old  New  York.  The  dinner  waited  till  I  got  a  sketch  done, 
for  I  knew  the  construction  man  would  not.     So  it  was  done. 


II 


XIX 
BUILDING  THE  WOOLWORTH  BUILDING 


XIX     Bl  ILDING  THE  WOOLWORTH  BUILDING 

HERE  is  a  moody  colossus — sometiiiics  it  is  fine,  sonie- 
tiines  filtliy.  It  was  all  right  the  day  I  made  this 
drawing,  stately  amid  the  clouds.  One  thing  it  has  done 
— it  has  made  a  new  sky  line  and  brought  New  York  to- 
gether again.  It  comes  up  best  from  the  riyer,  but  no 
longer  do  the  Brooklyn  river-boats  run ;  from  them  I 
used  to  get  tlie  best  yiews.  Still,  there  are  other  ways  of 
seeing;  the  Wonder  of  Work  even  now  at  New  York. 


~=1 


■'  '.-rr^y^^-". 


XX 
BUTTE,  MONTANA,  ON  ITS  MOUNTAIN  TOP 


XX  Bl'TTE,  MONTANA,  ON  ITS  MOUNTAIN  TOP 

BUTTE  is  tlie  most  pictorial  place  in  America — there- 
fore no  one  stops  at  it — and  most  people  pass  it  in  the 
niglit,  or  do  not  take  the  ti'ouble  to  look  out  of  the  car 
windows  as  thev  go  by.  But  there  it  is.  On  the  mountain 
side  spring  up  the  huge  shafts.  The  top  is  crowned  not 
with  trees  but  with  chimneys.  Low  black  villages  of 
miners'  houses  straggle  toward  the  foot  of  the  mountain. 
The  barren  plain  is  covered  wdth  gray,  slimy  masses  of 
refuse  which  crawl  down  to  it — glaciers  of  work — from 
the  hills.  The  plain  is  seared  and  scored  and  cracked  with 
tiny  canyons,  all  their  lines  leading  to  the  mountain.  If 
you  have  the  luck  to  reach  the  town  early  in  the  morning 
you  will  find  it  half  revealed,  half  concealed  in  smoke  and 
mist  and  steam,  through  Avhich  the  strange  shafts  struggle 
up  to  the  light,  while  all  round  the  horizon  the  snow  peaks 
silently  shimmer  above  the  noisy,  hidden  towui.  If  you  have 
the  still  better  fortune  to  reach  it  late  in  the  evening  you 
will  see  an  Alpine  glow  that  the  Alps  have  never  seen.  In 
the  middle  of  the  day  the  mountains  disappear  and  there  is 
nothing  but  glare  and  glitter,  union  men  and  loafers  about. 


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XXI 
ANACONDA,  MONTANA 


XXI     ANACONDA,  MONTANA 

I  HAVE  seen  many  volcanoes,  a  few  in  eruption — that 
was  terrible — but  this  great  smelter  at  Anaconda  al- 
ways, while  I  was  there,  pouring  from  its  great  stack  high 
on  the  mountain  its  endless  cloud  pall  of  heavy,  drifting, 
falling  smoke,  was  more  wonderful — for  this  volcano  is 
man's  work  and  one  of  the  Wonders  of  Work.  Dead  and 
gray  and  bare  are  the  nearby  hills,  glorious  the  snow-cov- 
ered peaks  far  off,  but  incredible  is  this  endless  rolling, 
changing  pillar  of  cloud,  always  there,  yet  always  different 
— and  that  country  covered  with  great  lakes,  waterless, 
glittering,  great  lava  beds  of  refuse  stretching  away  in 
every  direction  dowTi  the  mountain  sides  into  the  valleys, 
swallowing  up  every  vestige  of  life,  yet  beautiful  with  the 
beauty  of  death — a  death,  a  plague  which  day  by  day 
spreads  farther  and  farther  over  the  land — silently  over- 
whelming, all-devouring — a  silent  place  of  smoke  and  fire. 


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XXII 

APPROACH  TO  DULUTH,  THE  LAND  OF 
WORK  AND  BEAUTY 


XXII     ArrKOACH  TO  DULUTH,  THE  LAND  OF 
WORK  AND  BEAUTY 

THE  lines  of  the  wiiuliiii)"  waterways,  each  leading  to  a 
fui-nace,  a  mill,  an  elevator,  are  simply  beautiful  and 
the  color  absolutely  lovely.  This  is  the  modern  landscape 
— a  landscape  that  Claude  would  have  loved.  All  his  com- 
position is  in  it — only  the  mills  have  replaced  the  palaces, 
the  trestle  the  aqueduct ;  instead  of  the  stone  pine,  there 
stands  the  water  tower;  instead  of  the  cypress,  the  auto- 
matic signal ;  instead  of  the  Cross,  the  trolley  pole.  Soon, 
however,  all  this  will  go — the  mystery  of  the  smoke  will 
vanish  in  the  clearness  of  electricit}-,  and  the  mystery  of  the 
trestle  in  the  plainness  of  the  concrete  bridge.  But  it  is 
here  now%  and  the  thing  is  to  delight  in  it.  Artists  don't 
see  it — and  the  railroad  men  who  have  made  it  don't  know 
any  more  than  the  Greeks  what  a  marvellous  thing  they 
have  made. 


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XXIII 
ORE  WHARVES,  DULUTH 


XXIII      OHi:  WIIAHVKS,  DULUTH 

MlCiiri'V.  torrlfviiiiT  are  tlicse  monsters — filled  chock- 
fvill  ^vitli  ore.  wliicli,  when  the  empty  steamers  come 
aloii^'side,  vomit  roaring  red  and  gold  and  brown  streams 
of  ore  that  load  them  in  half  an  liour,  or  less,  and  then  are 
ready  for  more. 


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XXIV 
ORE  MINES,  HIBBING 


XXIV     ORE  MINES,  HIBBING 

IF  one  wants  an  idea  of  wlint  tlie  Culebra  Cut  looked  like, 
when  the  Panama  Canal  was  bein^  dug  through  the 
mountains,  it  is  only  necessary  to  go  to  the  ore  mines  near 
Dulutli.  There  are  the  same  great  terraces,  the  same 
steam  shovels,  digging  and  loading  the  dirt,  the  same  en- 
.giiies  and  trains,  and  in  some  of  the  pits  the  forms  are 
even  fine — amphitheatres, — only  the  seats  and  steps  are 
gigantic.  But  when  the  shadows  begin  to  creep  up  from 
below,  the  place  becomes  a  theatre  for  the  gods,  a  theatre 
where  there  are  no  spectators,  and  the  actors  are  the  steam 
shovels  with  their  white  plumes  and  the  engines  with  their 
black  clouds.  But  they  are  finer  far  than  any  poor  mum- 
mer's makeshifts.  And  every  now  and  then  comes  a  burst 
of  applause  as  a  blast  is  fired  more  thrilling  than  ever  heard 
in  a  play  theatre.  This  is  the  theatre  of  the  Wonder  of 
Work. 


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XXV 

FLOUR  MILLS,  IMINNEAPOLIS 


XXV     FT>Ol^R  :\IITXS,  MINNEAPOLIS 

THE  mills  of  ^MinnL'upolIs  are  as  impressive  as  the 
catlu'cirals  of  France.  Tliere  arc  places  on  the  river 
where  thev  ^roup  themselves  into  the  same  compositions, 
with  the  bridges  below  them,  that  I  found  years  ago  at 
Abli — only  the  color  is  different :  the  rosy  red  of  the 
French  brick  is  changed  to  dull  concrete  gray.  The  tree 
masses  below  are  the  same,  and  the  old  stone  railroad  bridge 
over  the  ^Mississippi  is  just  as  drawable  as  that  over  the 
Tarn.  Tlie  beauty  of  the  flour  mills  is  the  beauty  of  use — 
they  carry  out  William  ^Morris's  theory  that  "  everything 
useful  should  be  beautiful  " — but  I  don't  know  what  he 
would  have  said  to  them.  There  are  other  subjects  which 
recall  Tivoli,  Avhere  the  streams  gush  out  from  the  bluffs  or 
tumble  and  rush  and  roar  from  dark  caverns  between  the 
huge  modern  masses  of  masonr}^  as  finely  as  they  do  in  far- 
away Italy.  Those  were  the  shrines  of  the  gods — these 
are  the  temples  of  work,  the  temples  of  our  time. 


'■■       it     te  '■  ^ 


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■."W 


XXVI 
THE  INCLINE,  CINCINNATI 


XXVI     THE  INCLINE,  CINCINNATI 

THERE  arc  luindreds  of  these  inclines — ascenseurs, 
finiculari,in  tlic  world— all  fascinating  from  above  or 
below — but  I  know  of  none  so  fascinating  as  this  even 
among  the  numbers  at  Cincinnati — none  in  which  the  pitch 
is  steeper,  the  stop  so  sudden — none  where  the  streets  lead 
direct  to  the  heart  of  the  city ;  no  city  so  dominated,  con- 
centrated, at  its  heart,  by  its  lone  white  skyscraper,  as  Cin- 
cinnati. That  is  why  I  drew  it ;  and,  as  I  drew,  the  boy  who 
opened  and  shut  the  gates  came  and  told  me  he  wanted  to 
be  a  poet,  that  he  was  a  poet,  and  that  Poe  was  the  greatest 
American  author,  which  most  great  Americans  do  not 
know,  and  that  he  loved  Shelley,  and  so  I  recommended 
Whitman  to  him,  of  whom  he  had  not  heard,  and  advised 
him  to  attend  to  his  gates  and  his  poetry  and  then  he  might 
do  something.  And  he  asked  me  if  I  had  done  anything 
mvself.     If  I  had  made  good!    Well,  have  I.^ 


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XXVII 
VICTOR  EMMANUEL  MONUMENT,  ROME 


XXVII     VI(  TOR  KMMANUET.  MOXmiEXT,  ROME 

A  TRIUMPH  of  luisdiricted  work  which  has  swallowed 
millions  with  no  result — only  while  it  was  being  built, 
the  scaffolding  which  surrounded  it  was  magnificent,  and 
from  where  I  made  the  drawing  on  the  Palatine  it  told  the 
story   of  ancient,  media?val,   and   modern  work  in  Rome. 


XXVIII 
REBUILDING  THE  CAMPANILE,  VENICE 


XXVIII    KKBU ILDING  THE  CAMPANILE,  VENICE 

THE  chang'es  in  the  inothods  of  work  between  Canaletto's 
time  and  mine  were  never  more  clearly  shown.  When 
he  drew  the  building  being  restored,  it  was  hidden  in  scaf- 
folding; when  it  was  rebuilt,  as  I  saw  it,  a  few  years  ago, 
everything  was  done  from  the  inside,  till  the  top  was 
reached,  men  and  materials  being  carried  up  on  elevators. 
It  is  said  one  of  our  ingenious  American  Captains  of  Labor 
offered  to  rebuild  it  free  if  the  Venetians  would  let  him  put 
two  elevators  in,  and  have  the  profits  of  them  for  twenty- 
five  years,  after  which  he  would  hand  it  to  the  city  and  retire 
on  the  results.  The  Syndic  declined,  but  put  in  the 
elevators. 


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XXIX 
RETURN  FROM  WORK,  CARRARA,  ITALY 


XXIX     RETURN  FROM  WORK,  CARRARA,  ITALY 

I  HAVE  never  seen  anything  so  impressive  as  the  quar- 
ries at  Carrara.  The  great  white  masses  one  can  see 
as  the  train  passes  Carrara  station,  or  from  Pisa,  are  not 
snow,  as  many  think,  but  marble — high  on  the  tops  of  the 
mountains,  quarried  for  centuries  by  regiments  of  men 
wlio  toil  on  foot,  ill  trains  or  are  swung  up  in  baskets  to 
the  summit.  Then  down  the  roughest  track,  only  smoothed 
bv  tlie  blocks,  the  marble  is  dragged  by  teams  of  oxen, 
driven  b}'  men  sitting  backward,  to  the  railroad  or  the  har- 
bor. The  contrast  between  the  dazzling  blocks,  the  blue 
skv  and  black  trees,  and  untouched  mountain  side  is  intense. 


'J 


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XXX 

THE  NEW  BAY  OF  BAIE,  ITALY 


XXX     THE  NEW  BAY  OF  BAIE,  ITALY 

I  HAVE  no  doubt  I  shall  be  told  I  am  cheekily  reckless 
to  tackle  Turner's  subject — I  liave  even  known  a  col- 
lector to  get  rid  of  this  print  with  scorn — but  I  am  glad 
I  drew  it.  I  do  not  know  if  Turner  made  his  drawine  from 
the  same  point.  Just  where,  after  the  long  climb  up  the 
hill  from  Naples,  between  the  cliffs,  the  road  begins  to 
descend,  it  turns,  and  all  this  is  before  you.  I  do  not  know 
whether  it  will  be  in  existence  when  the  book  appears,  or 
battered  to  ruin,  but  I  do  know  that  nowhere  in  the  world 
is  there  such  a  combination  of  classic  and  mediaeval  motives 
and  the  spirit  of  modern  work  as  in  this  view  from  the  top 
of  the  hill  looking  down  on  the  land  and  the  sea  near 
Naples. 


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XXXI 
THE  HARBOR  AT  GENOA,  ITALY 


XXXI     THE  HARBOR  AT  GENOA,  ITALY 

IN  Italy  alone  can  the  wondex'  of  the  old  and  new  work 
be  found.  This  subject  must  have  been  sketched  by 
Claude — for  these  two  lig-hthouses  appear — or  others  like 
them — possibly  at  Civita  Vecchia,  again  and  again  in  his 
paintings.  But  he  never  saw  the  harbor  crowded  with 
steamers,  the  twinkling  lines  of  electric  light,  the  cranes, 
the  engines  and  the  docks.  I  have,  and  have  tried  to  draw 
them  all. 


XXXII 
THE  GREAT  WHITE  CLOUD,  LEEDS,  ENGLAND 


XXXII     THE  GREAT  WHITE  CLOUD,  LEEDS 

I  SAW  this  extraordinary  effect  one  day  at  Leeds.  Noth- 
in<r  could  be  finer  than  the  way  the  threat,  strange 
furnaces  told  Hke  castles — and  they  are  work  castles — 
against  the  great  wliite  clouds  of  a  summer  day  in  England. 


XXXIII 
POTLAND,  ENGLAND 


XXXIII      rOTLAM),  ENGLAND 

ON  its  little  hill,  entirely  covering  it  among  the  Five 
Towns,  stands  this  work  town.  Pottery  kilns  and 
chimneys,  and  not  churcli  spires  and  campanile,  crown  it. 
But  in  tliat  land  of  work — coal  mines  and  factory  stacks 
about — it  is  perfect  as  a  composition — as  fine  as  any  of 
the  little  towns  Rembrandt  drew  and  Diirer  built.  I  don't 
even  know  its  name. 


XXXIV 
THE  RIVER  OF  WORK,  LEEDS,  ENGLAND 


X  X X  I\     1 II H  lUVKR  OF  WORK,  LEEDS,  ENGLAND 

Sr,OW-:\IOVIXG,  fiUhy,  black— here  and  there  gleams 
of  iridescence  h)vely  as  old  glass — that  come  from  oil 
Avaste  on  the  water — it  winds  smellily  through  the  Black 
County  of  England,  There  are  many  of  these  rivers  in  the 
world.  Over  them  brood  black,  murky  clouds,  great  black 
chimnevs  vomit  black  smoke,  and  then  for  a  moment  the 
sun  breaks  through  and  turns  all  to  glory. 


XXXV 
THE  GREAT  CHIMNEY,  BRADFORD,  ENGLAND 


XXXV     THE  (aiKAT  C'llIMXEY,  BRADFORD 

THERE  it  stood,  solitni-y — beyond,  behind,  below — 
clinibin<)-  up  the  endless  hills  silhouetting  the  horizon, 
revealed  and  liidden  by  showers,  smoke,  clouds,  chim- 
ncys  and  chinmeys  and  chimneys — the  endless  landmarks  of 
industrial  England. 

This  etching  illustrates,  too,  the  necessity  of  doing  the 
Wonder  of  Work  when  you  find  a  subject,  and  not  saying, 
'•  I  will  come  again  and  do  it  later  " — and  you  must  find 
your  subjects  for  yourself:  no  one  can  tell  you  where  there 
is  a  fine  smoke  effect  or  a  stunning  steam  jet.  I  had  made 
the  etching  and  later  Avas  in  Bradford  again  and  went  back 
to  look  at  it.  Not  only  had  it  all  been  fenced  in,  but  a 
new  factory  was  being  built  round  it — it  had  completely 
disappeared. 


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XXXVl 
THE  GREAT  STACK,  SHEFFIELD,  ENGLAND 


XXXM     THE   GREAT   STACK,   SHEFFIELD 

IF  either  3'ou  have  the  brains,  or  it  is  clear  enough,  you 
can  .see  this  great  stack  dominating  the  whole  landscape 
ant!  townscape  as  30U  come  out  of  the  railroad  station  at 
Sheffield.  A  great  American  literary  person  actually  saw 
it  and  regretted,  on  an  editorial  page,  that  no  artist  ever 
looked  at  such  subjects;  but  when  I  not  only  wrote  him 
that  I  had  etched  it  already  and  sent  him  a  proof  to  prove 
it,  lie  never  acknowledged  my  letter,  but  he  kept  the  proof. 
I  may  say  that  in  1883  I  made  a  series  of  illustrations  of 
work  subjects  in  Slieffield  which  were  printed  in  Harper's 
Magazine.  Two  things  always  impressed  me  in  that  town 
— the  boiling  water  in  the  rivers  and  the  abominable  habits 
of  the  natives  in  the  streets,  who  from  across  the  rivers 
and  behind  walls  and  other  safe  places  "  'eave  arf  a  bi'ick  " 
at  vou  if  vou  dare  to  draw. 


XXXVII 
THAMES  WORKS,  LONDON 


XXXVII    tiia:\ies  works,  London 

ALONG  the  sunny  Thames  still  linger  the  old  clocks,  old 
^  warehouses — worked  in  the  old  out-of-date  way — 
niostl}^  by  hand.  Ashore  and  afloat  the  port  of  London  is 
the  most  out-of-date  place  in  tlie  world — and  it's  scarcely 
even  picturesque  any  longer. 


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XXXVIII 
SCHNEIDER'S  WORKS  AT  CREUSOT,  FRANCE 


XXXVIII     SCIINKIDER'S  WORKS  AT  CREUSOT 

THIS  is  tlic  \'olo;uio  of  Work,  and  the  blast  furnaces  are 
its  crater.  Right  in  the  town,  but  below  it,  surrounded 
by  hig'h  hills,  it  stands,  and  you  can,  from  the  corner  of 
the  Grande  Rue,  look  down  into  the  seething  depths  of  it 
— and  every  little  while  it  pants,  it  roars,  and  then  ex- 
plodes in  fire  and  fume.  This  drawing  was  made  from  the 
hills  opposite  the  town,  but  shows  how  like  the  crater  of  a 
volcano  the  whole  place  is. 


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XXXIX 
OLD  AND  NEW  MILLS,  VALENCIENNES,  FRANCE 


XXXIX   OLD  AND  NEW  MILLS,  VALENCIENNES 

NOWHERE  liavc  I  ever  seen  the  old  and  the  new  so 
contrasted    as   here,   both   mills   workinf^ — both   pic- 
torial— and  both  probably  now  destroyed. 


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XL 

THE  LAKE  OF  EIRE,  CHARLEROI,  BELGIUM 


XL     THE  LAKE  OF  ITRE,  CHAKLEROI,  BELGIUM 

AT  niglit  all  furnaces  are  infernal,  but  Charleroi  is  the 
most  terrifying  of  all.  By  the  roadside  was  a  black 
lake  beyond  a  roaring  furnace.  An  engine  pushed  a  car  of 
molten  slag  to  the  top  of  the  dump  and  dumped  it.  The 
living  licjuid  fire  roai'ed  and  tumbled  into  the  lake,  turning 
it  to  fire. 


XLI 
THE  GREAT  DUMP,  CHARLEROI,  BELGIUM 


XLI     THE  GREAT  DUMP,  CIIARLEROI,  BELGIUM 


N 


EAR  all  groat  works  these  great  dumps  arc,  but  none  I 
liave  seen  are  so  great  as  those  of  Belgium.  The  refuse 
is  carried  by  travellers  to  them,  received  cither  by  girls  who 
no  longer  dress  as  ^Mcvniicr  saw  them,  but  in  coarse,  thick, 
short  gowns,  their  hair  tied  up  in  white  towels.  Or  the  slag 
and  dirt  are  dumped  directly  on  the  growing  mountain, 
and  this  refuse  falls  in  the  most  beautiful  lines  and  the  most 
loA'ely  grays  and  browns,  like  velvet  or  the  fur  of  some 
huge  beast,  which  grows  and  grows,  towering  over  the 
chimneys,  the  furnaces  looming  up  through  the  smoke, 
always  growing  and  growing,  fed  by  the  travellers  which 
carry  to  it  an  endless  chain  of  creaking  buckets  high  in 
air,  sometimes  for  a  kilometre,  over  ploughed  fields  and 
slow-moving  rivers,  to  these  work  mountains. 


XLII 
THE  IRON  GATE,  CHARLEROI,  BELGIUM 


XLII     THE  IRON  GATE,  CHARLEROI,  BELGIUM 

HKtII  ill  the  air  the  iron  <:jate  h;ings — the  entrance  to 
tlie  ii'reat  works.  When  there  is  a  strike  it  conies 
down,  and  not  only  is  it  topped  with  sharp  spikes,  but,  I 
was  told,  it  could  be  charged  with  electricity  and  is  pierced 
with  holes  through  which  to  shoot.  On  either  side  are 
guard-houses  on  the  wall,  fitted  with  guns — all  these  prep- 
arations made  for  strikers,  for  industrial  war.  Now 
that  real  war  has  come,  I  wonder  what  part  the  iron  gate 
plays. 


f 


XLIII 
CRANES,  DUISBURG,  GERMANY 


XLIIl     CRANES,  DLISBURG,  GERMANY 

I  KNOW  nothing  of  tla-  liftiiii^  power  or  any  other 
accoiiiplislnnents  of  these  cranes,  but  I  do  know 
that  nowhere  in  the  world  are  there  such  huge,  such 
picturesque  cranes  as  those  of  Germany,  and  in  Germany 
the  finest  are  in  and  around  Duisburg  and  Hamburg.  They 
may  not  carry  any  more  than,  or  as  much  as,  American 
machines,  but  they  are  far  bigger  and  more  drawable,  and 
those  on  the  high  banks  of  the  Rhine  superbly  placed,  each 
full  of  character,  each  worth  drawing. 


XLIV 
NEW  RHINE,  GERMANY 


XI.IV     NKW  RHINE,  GERMANY 

Tl  IE  Rliine  is  wonderful  from  the  sea  to  the  source — but 
fine  as  one  finds  tlie  old  castles  and  the  combinations 
of  old  castles  and  new  mills,  the  new  mills,  new  Rhine 
castles,  have  made  a  new  river,  and  they  are  the  most  in- 


teresting tilings  on  it. 


XLV 
BUILDING  THE  RAILROAD  STATION,  LEIPZIG 


XLV     BUILDING  THE   RAILROAD   STATION 
LEIPZIG,  GERMANY 

IT  is  difficult  to  tell  whether  an  American  railroad  station 
is  a  Greek  temple,  a  Christian  Science  church,  a  free 
library,  a  bank,  a  museum,  or  a  millionaire's  residence  or 
his  tomb.  A  German  railroad  station  looks  like  a  railroad 
station  and  nothing  else. 

I  believe  this  station  is  larger — -it  is  certainly  far  better 
designed  than  anything  in  America — but  the  building 
of  it,  with  the  great,  half-finished  arches  looming  up,  was  a 
splendid  motive.  I  was  in  Leipzig  in  April,  1914,  drew 
this ;  I  returned  in  June  and  the  subject  was  gone;  all  that 
remained  was  the  Graphic  Art  and  Book  Exhibition,  the 
finest  ever  held  anywhere.  And  that  was  ruined  by  the  fools 
who  brought  on  the  fool  war. 


:  >:-iHSgr^'t>^j5»»>J8v^5f^fc^^ 


XLVI 
BUILDING  THE  BRIDGE  AT  COLOGNE,  GERMANY 


XLVI     Bl  ILDING  THE  BRIDGE  AT  COLOGNE 
Drawn  after  \v;ir  was  declared  with  Russia,  1914*. 

IT  is  a  fashion  of  the  art  critic  to  praise  Japanese  ar- 
rano-cnient  and  construction.  No  Japanese  ever  de- 
signed  so  pictorial  and  so  powerful  a  bridge  as  this,  yet,  on 
the  whole,  it  looks  Hke  a  Japanese  bridge  and  has  the  feeling 
of  one,  but  it  is  doubtful  if  the  engineer  who  designed  it  ever 
saw  Hiroshigi's  prints. 


"  Ci 


i  •n...^ii — ^ 


XL  VII 
BUILDING  THE  "  BISMARCK,"  HAMBURG,  GERMANY 


XLVII    lU  IT. DING  THE  "  HISMAUCK,"  IIA:\IBURG 

IBELIKA  K  the  Bismarck  is  the  biggest  ship — or  the  big- 
gest German  ship — yet  launched ;  the  crane  beside  her 
is  the  biggest  and  the  most  wonderfully  controlled  I  have 
ever  seen  anywhere,  and  the  whole  made  a  composition  as 
fine  as  anvthing  in  the  Wonder  of  Work. 


1  -p 


V-- 


.^^~   -''aB=ri''^i      .^-i^  til      ■«      Vfi         iS,  •   i  .--1        '-• 


XLVIII 

THE  HUT  OF  THE  CAPE  OF  GOOD  HOPE, 
OBERHAUSEN,  GERMANY 


XLMII     THE  HUT  OF  THE  CAPE  OF  GOOD  HOPE 

Nl'A  Ell  nnvwherc,  even  in  orderly  Geraiany,  have  I  seen 
sucli  an  (irderly  place  as  this  steel  works,  and  yet  it 
Avas  pictures(iuc.  Every  chimneys  retort,  and  furnace 
seemed  to  be  cleaned  daily.  There  was  in  the  late  afternoon 
light  a  beautiful  blue  sheen  on  the  furnaces,  the  brick  of  the 
chinnievs  was  delicate  red  which  harmonized  with  the  gold 
and  rose  fumes  from  the  blasts,  amid  all  the  white  smoke 
was  pierced  witli  purple  and  blue,  and  in  front  was  the 
greenest  grass  plot  I  have  ever  seen,  kept,  like  all  the  works, 
in  perfect  order,  and  around  the  outer  border  engines  were 
dragging  the  most  lurid  melted  white-hot  refuse — roaring 
fire. 


XLIX 
SHIPYARD,  HAMBURG,  GERMANY 


XT.TX     SHIPYARD,  HAMBURG,  GERMANY 

THK  pattern  of  the  steel  work  of  this  shipbuilding  yard 
was  like  lace,  3'et  in  this  delicate  laccwork  maze  the 
most  powerful  men-of-war,  the  largest  merchant  ships,  were 
built  and  launched — yet  the  effect  of  these  yards  was  filmy, 
delicate,  gossamer — the  most  beautiful  lines  I  know  in  the 
Wonder  of  Work. 


|!#'w> 


L 
KRUPP'S  WORKS,  ESSEN,  GERMANY 


I>     KKirr'S  WORKS,  ESSEN,  GI^R.MAXY 

I  SHALL  not  toll  tlie  story  how  I  made  this  print — • 
many  others  in  the  book  have  stories,  too — but  I  will 
say  that  Essen  is  pictorially  anioni:^  the  least  interesting  of 
the  great  work  cities  of  the  world,  because,  first,  nuicli  of 
it  is  new,  up-to-date  and  therefore  uninteresting  artisti- 
cally, and,  second,  because  it  stands  in  a  plain,  surrounded 
by  high  walls,  and  I  never  have  been  able  to  find  a  point 
"where  I  could  see  anything.  Still,  there  are  great  subjects 
in  the  shops,  and  this  is  one  of  them. 


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LI 
POWER-HOUSE,  BERLIN,  GERMANY 


1.1     roWEll-HOUSE,  liEKLIN,  GERMANY 

I  ALWAYS  love  these  power-houses  a\  itli  tlicir  liuge 
ehiunieys,  but  it  is  rare  indeed  that  they  compose  so  well 
as  this.  But  nianv  other  industrial  palaces  in  Berlin  are 
fine:  the  General  Electric  Company's  works,  its  dynamo 
buildini^  sho})s,  and  the  city  gasometers  which  have  been 
made  into  modern  work  castles  of  the  most  enormous 
bulk ;  and  the  nuu'h-written-about  flower-covered  buildings 
of  the  work  people.  All  these  make  up  the  Wonder  of 
Work  in  Berlin. 


LII 
SCHNAAPS  AT  SCHIEDAAM,  HOLLAND 


I,II     SCIIXAAPS  AT  SCHIKDAAM,  HOLLAND 

AS  THE  Continental  express  fromi  the  Hook  of  Holland 
reached  Schiedaani  the  traveller  who  was  not  fast 
asleep — most  were — could  see  the  old  town  where  work 
crowns  war — each  bastion  bears  a  windmill,  while  from  the 
city  within  the  walls  endlessly  rise  and  silently  drift  away 
masses  of  white  smoke  clouds,  showing  for  one  moment, 
hi(Hn<>;  the  next,  the  spires,  towers,  and  domes  of  the  city. 
I  do  not  know  what  makes  the  smoke  clouds — -whether 
Schnaaps  or  not — but  tlicre  they  always  are — and  are 
alwa^'s  to  be  seen  from  the  station  platform  from  which  I 
made  the  drawing. 


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